


Map Out All the Ways to Make It Right

by IprotectKennyP (dauntperplexity)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Protective Jeff "Swoops" Troy, Protective Las Vegas Aces, mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:49:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25739092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dauntperplexity/pseuds/IprotectKennyP
Summary: "Parson got hit?" Jeff asked."What?" Payton asked, sounding just as surprised as Jeff felt."The reporters say that Kent got hit. When the fuck did that happen?"The only answer that Payton could give was a shrug.
Relationships: Kent "Parse" Parson & Jeff "Swoops" Troy, Kent "Parse" Parson & Las Vegas Aces Ensemble (Check Please!)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 125
Collections: Check Please Heartbreak Fest 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maeve_of_Winter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maeve_of_Winter/gifts).



> So, I started this fic and ended up writing about 5,000 words before I realized that it was going to blow out of proportion before I actually go to this fic. Five thousand words were cut, and many more thousand words were added.
> 
> I hope you like it!

Kent's pass was perfect.

That was Jeff's only thought after he won the face-off and sent the puck across the ice to Kent. Then Kent sent it right to Scubinski, who tapped it in right over the goalie's blocker. It wasn't tapped as much as Kent placed the puck in the perfect position at the perfect speed so that it hit Scubinski's stick at the perfect angle.

All those perfect things combined to give them the win in regulation instead of having to play in OT.

Jeff had seen Kent and Scubinski talking right before the face-off.Jeff was sure that Kent had drawn up the play in that conversation that took only a few seconds.

The play couldn't have been executed more perfectly if they tried.

And then the game was over.

As soon as the horn sounded, Jeff skated to Scubinski and tackled him against the boards.

First NHL game.

First NHL goal.

Game winner.

What a way to enter the show.

The boys skated to congratulate him on his goal, then went to their goalie.

Then they went to the locker room to shower up then head home. It was a great way to end the home stand before they headed on the road for a week and a half. A gutsy win was just what they needed.

The boys skated off the ice and into the locker room. They presented Scubinski with his game puck and the game jester hat in Aces colors. Scubinski wore the hat and held up the puck for pictures, then the media was ushered in.

As usual, they wanted to talk to Jeff. He was one of the more personable people on the team. He gave his usual cliched answers to the usual cliched questions.

Then he had to go over what he saw in the last play of the game.

He spoke about it with his usual excitement. Maybe a little more than his usual excitement.

Damn if it wasn't a defining moment for the team early in the season.

"Speaking of Parson, can you give us an update on his condition?"

Jeff's head shot up to look at the reporter that asked the question. "Uh," he said, trying to hide that they had caught him off guard. He looked around the locker room trying to find Kent, but in his quick scan of the room he couldn't find him. He dropped his head down and shook it. "Not really my place to say anything."

"A hit like that at the end of the game, are you guys just gonna use that for when you see them again next month?"

"Yeah," Jeff said. "Of course. We didn't want to focus on that after such a gutsy win, you know? But we'll see how it goes next time we see them."

"Thank you, Jeff," the reporter said, then they dispersed.

Jeff watched as the reporters headed out of the room and toward the media room to talk with their coach. Once they were clear, he stood up and went straight to his brother. "Peej," he said. "Parson got hit?"

"What?" Payton asked, sounding as surprised as Jeff felt.

"The reporters say that he got hit. When the fuck did that happen?"

The only answer that Payton could give was a shrug.

"Norah said it was at the end. After he sent the puck in," Garrett said, waving his phone at them. "Nor said it looked bad. The girls were worried. They wanted me to get Kent so he could talk to them.”

“So, you didn’t see it either?” Jeff asked. Garrett shook his head. He looked out to the rest of the team. “Did anyone see Parson get hit?”

“It’s probably not a big deal,” Warner said. “He avoided taking hits all season. I’m sure it was nothing.”

“So, where is he, then?” Jeff asked.

The team looked around the locker room, their eyes going to Kent's stall. It was at that moment that the rest of noticed that Kent wasn't with them.

It wasn't like Kent made waves in the locker room.

He respected the locker room and team codes. He never messed around with anyone's stuff. He took whatever notes the coaches and teammates said to him to improve his game. He always was very humble if he was involved in postgame shenanigans. He spoke to the media with such poise and practice that people would have thought he was a veteran if it weren't for his baby face.

He was usually the first one in the arena, and one of the last ones to leave.

"Saw him skate off at the end of the game," Scubinski said. "I wanted to celly with him, but he left before I could."

"So you saw him get hit?" Payton asked.

"No. I was focused and putting the puck in the net," he replied. "Should we go look for him?"

Before Jeff could agree their Media Manager, Bethany Bourne, walked in to announce who would be doing the postgame interviews. "Jeff, Daxton, Jesse. You're up," she said. She turned to walk right back out so the team could finish changing.

"Wait. Bebe," Jeff called out before she could leave.

"What?" she asked, her tone clipped and impatient.

"I need to see the hit on Parson."

Bethany frowned. "Why?"

"Because they're gonna ask about it," Jeff said. "I can't be caught off guard again. Especially if it was something that we should've responded to."

"Yeah," Bethany said. "You probably should've." She turned and left the team alone.

"Shit," Jeff said.

They were definitely in trouble. Bethany usually had such a bubbly and positive personality. For her to be acting so cold meant they missed something.

Big.

He only had enough time to grab his hat before he, along with Jesse and Daxton, needed to go and meet the media. He really wished he had time to watch the video.

Because he was right.

They did ask about it.

And he really had nothing to say.

He really wanted to.

Especially after they said it looked like he took a hit to the head. And there was blood. And they asked about stitches. And if he went through concussion protocol. And how many games Kent would be out.

None of them had an answer to their questions. Which meant the two other teammates with him didn’t see it either.

"You'd have to ask coach," Jeff said. As someone who wore an A, he needed to say something. "But I'm pretty sure he'd just say that it's late and we'll hear about it in the morning."

After the interview, he showered and changed. He wanted to head straight to the trainers to look for Kent, but his body wouldn't let him. He was starving and needed to get something into his system first.

Most of the guys were still there eating. Only a handful of guys had left to go home to their girlfriends or wives and kids.

Jeff piled his food onto his plate and went to sit down with Payton, Garrett, and Jesse. "You guys go check on him?"

"Wanted to wait for you," Payton said. "I did check the weight room. Thought maybe he'd want to get some reps in if he still had the energy. He wasn't there, though."

Jeff nodded. He'd found Kent in the weight room squatting, lifting, or running on the treadmill after at least a dozen games. The kid pushed himself harder than anyone else on the team.

"Let me finish my steak, then we can go see Lincoln."

They did see him a minute later when he walked in along with his assistant trainers.

Jeff set down his fork and looked at the the door waiting for Kent to walk in. When he didn't appear for ten minutes, Jeff stood up and went to the trainers. "Where's Parson?"

Lincoln grabbed a sandwich from the table and looked up at the tall player. "Hey. He's probably at home now."

"What?"

"Yeah," their head trainer said. "We bandaged him up. Checked him for a concussion. He showered, we made him a plate, and he headed home."

"And he's okay?" Jeff asked.

"A little late to be showing some concern, eh?" Lincoln asked.

"Fuck, Linc, don't bite my head off," Jeff said. "I didn't see it."

"Apparently no one did," Lincoln said. "But he's fine. Tired." He set the sandwich down. "Did you see the hit yet?”

"No," Jeff said.

"And that's why I deserve to bite your head off," Lincoln said.

Jeff left Lincoln to eat his food. The hit had to be a bad one if Bethany and Lincoln were frustrated with him and maybe the rest of the team. He grabbed a take out container from the food table before heading to his table to pack up his food. He needed to leave.

"Where are you going?" Payton asked.

"I have to go check on Parson," Jeff replied.

"Why?" Garrett asked. "Is it bad?"

"Lincoln sent him home, so it can't be too bad. But I just..." He picked up his food. "For peace of mind."

"Well, fuck. I'm coming too, then," Payton said.

"I thought you were going out with Hammy?"

"I can go after I check on our rook. Whatever happened to him got you worried."

"Well, Bebe and Linc have been a little snippy."

"Bebe?" Payton asked, surprised. "Bebe doesn't get snippy."

"Which is why I have to check on Parson." Jeff looked around. "I need to see the hit."

"Yeah, okay," Payton said. "Lemme go tell Hammy to push back the bar an hour. Text him."

Jeff nodded and felt for his phone in his pocket as he walked out of the arena and toward his car. He sat down and sent Kent a text asking if he was okay and that he was on his way over. He waited for a minute to see if Kent would text back.

He didn't.

Jeff looked up at a tap on his window and saw his brother along with a few of their teammates. He rolled his window down. "What's going on?” he asked as he watched them head to their cars.

"They saw the hit," Payton said. "They're pissed."

"Fuck," Jeff said. If their grinders and brawlers were pissed, then it was bad. He started his car. "Let's go."

He left the parking lot and drove straight to Kent's place. It was mostly a straight shot since the post-game traffic was over.

He pulled into Kent's driveway twenty minutes later. He waited for the guys to pull up behind him before getting out of his car.

It gave him time to check his phone and see that Kent had not texted him back. The lights were still on, so Kent wasn't sleeping. He frowned a little irritated with the rookie for not replying.

He led the way to the front door once everyone got out. He rang the doorbell and waited.

A few seconds later, Kent opened the door wearing his Aces hoodie with his hood up and basketball shorts. He had his phone to his ear. "H-hi?" he greeted, surprised. He brought his phone down to his side. “What’s happening here?”

"You would've known we were coming if you checked your damn texts," Jeff said. He didn't appreciate being ignored.

Kent blushed as he brought the phone back up to his ear. "Hey, mama? I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" He paused for a moment. "Yeah. I'm okay. Yeah. I'll drink water. Love you." He hung up the phone and looked at all the messages on his screen. "Aw man," he said softly. "Sorry. I had to call my gramma after the game."

Well, if that didn't make Jeff feel even more like shit. "It's okay," he said. "Just wanted to check on you."

"I'm good," he said as he pulled his hood down.

"Jesus," Jeff said, grabbing Kent's chin to tilt his head up and look at his face. A bruise was already forming high on his cheekbone creeping up to his eye. And his split lips looked like it had reopened while he was talking to his grandma. "What the hell, Parson?"

Kent turned his head to get his face out of Jeff's grip. "Just a bruise," he said. He reached up and brushed his fingers through his hair. "I'm being rude. Come in." He stepped out of the way to let the boys in. "Did you guys eat? Should I go grab something to eat?"

"No," Hamilton said, pausing in front of Kent to look at his face. "We'll grab something later."

Jeff walked in and saw that Kent had been watching highlights from the other games that night. In the month that Kent lived with him before Kent moved, Jeff would always roll his eyes whenever Kent chose to watch hockey after practice. He would chirp him non-stop for watching highlights of every game and memorizing useless player stats.

He never did understand Kent's process.

Jeff stood behind Kent's couch and saw his food sitting on the coffee table half-eaten. Next to his take out container was the huge binder Kent lugged around everywhere. He watched Kent gather his things to clean up a bit.

"Anyone want anything to drink?" Kent asked, boxing up his food and bringing it to his kitchen. He set it down on the counter before heading back to the couch. He folded up his blanket and moved pillows around so people could sit if they wanted. "I have water, lemonade, Gatorade. Ginger ale."

"Parson, sit the fuck down," Castle, their fourth line center, said. "You're making my face hurt."

Kent went back into the kitchen and grabbed himself a water before going to sit down on the couch. "Just help yourself to whatever's in the kitchen."

Just then, NHL Network started to play the highlights of the game they'd just played. The atmosphere in the living room tensed up as the hockey players turned to the TV.

Jeff's eyes were completely glued to the screen. The goal in the first. The goal in the second. The three goals against in the third. Their third tying goal with half the period left to play.

Then came the analysts breaking down the final play and goal of the game.

They showed Kent and Scubinski with Scubinki leaning forward to hear his shorter teammate. 

_"Here you see Parson talking to Scubinski before the face-off."_

On the screen, Kent pointed to the goal, then pointed down to the ice. Then he put his mouth guard back in as he skated into position.

_"You have to think that Parson is telling his fellow rookie exactly where he needs to go and what he needs to do."_

_“Parson had to be plotting to get his fellow rookie a goal for his first game.”_

_"Troy wins the face-off and sends it right to Parson. There's not a lot of time for him with the clock running down. He doesn’t waste a second as he receives it and he sends it, sacrificing his body. The pass hits Scubinski's stick to take the perfect bounce up and over the blocker and in.”_

_“Perfectly executed. There was nothing Hartford could do to stop that with all the traffic in front of him.”_

_"Gutsy play and gutsy win by Las Vegas."_

_"A lot of trust put in their number one draft pick, Wilksy. He made that play happen."_

_"You're right, Ollie. You see no hesitation coming from him. Just cold-blooded. He drew up that play and saw it through."_

_"Absolutely focused on the play. I don't think he even got to see the puck go in as Barber came barreling into him."_

Jeff sucked in a breath as the actual hit was shown on the screen. Barber's shoulder came high, hitting Kent in the face. It was like he didn't see him coming since he was focused on making the perfect pass to end the game.

_"Player safety is definitely going to have to look at that, Ollie. Hit to the head. Luckily the helmet came off after he hit the ice. Parson looked like he took a second to get up. He just skated off the ice as soon as the horn sounded. He didn't even get to celebrate the win."_

_"Surprised that the Aces let the Schooners get away with that."_

_"I don't think they wanted to take away from the win. It will be interesting to see what happens the next time these two teams meet."_

_"I will not be surprised to see Castle or Mercer start something in Seattle."_

"Or Hamilton," Hamilton growled, adding himself into that mix.

“Dahlberg first,” one of their first line D-men said.

“You guys really don't have to do that," Kent said, looking up at the guys. “It was a good hit.”

"He almost took your fucking head off, Parson," their third line winger, Brouillard said, pissed. It was the first time he'd seen it.

"The Schooners are fucking lucky we didn't see it on the ice," Hamilton added, getting riled up.

"Guys, it's fine. I should’ve seen it. No harm done.”

"No harm done?" Castle said. "Have you seen your pretty face?"

Kent turned his head to look at Castle. The confusion on his face would've been funny if not for the bruise and the split lips.

"Parson, we can't let this league think that we don't defend our rookie," Jeff said, finally speaking up. He was trying his best to keep the anger off his face and out of his voice. “They’re gonna think they can keep coming at you and we won’t do anything about it.”

"It was just a hit," Kent said. "Probably looked a lot worse because I'm smaller than all you guys."

"It was a dirty hit," Jeff said, pointing at the TV. “You’re lucky that you don’t have a concussion.”

“Good thing the helmet fell off after I hit the ice, right?” Kent said with a nervous laugh.

That was exactly the wrong thing to say. “I’m gonna kill him," Jeff said, his voice low. "Who the hell was it?”

“Barber,” Payton said.

"You really, really don't have to do that," Kent said as he opened up his bottle of water and took a sip.

"Yes, we do," Hamilton said. "Because we should've seen it."

"If this is because you guys feel bad, then don't. Coach didn't see the hit either."

"Is that supposed to make us feel better?" Jeff asked.

"Yes?"

It didn't. 

Jeff was about to say something else when Kent's face popped back onto the TV screen. He saw Kent reach for the remote, probably to turn the TV off. "Leave it," he said. 

Kent brought his hand back to his side and curled his fingers around his water bottle.

_“But we saw him make big plays like this all the time in the Q. It’s why he was projected to go top five last season. There weren’t and aren’t a lot of players his age who have the vision to make those kinds of plays.”_

_"A play like that, Wilksy, you gotta think that Parson is in contention for the Calder."_

_"A little early to be calling that, Ollie, don't you think? We still have a lot of hockey to play this year."_

_"I don't know. We're twenty-something games in. The Aces are tied for second in the division. Parson is a top 3 point-getter among rookies. Top fifteen in the league. We can see he's not afraid to take the game in his hands and make the big plays. Picking up right where he left off in the Q. But you gotta wonder how much the Aces had to adjust their game plan when they picked him up."_

_"You gotta wonder. There's no way they could've known Parson would be capable of this high caliber play so early in his career. They lucked out picking him up after everything that happened prior to the draft."_

_"Gotta say. Not bad for a second choice."_

"What the hell are those ass clowns talking about?" Hamilton said.

"The usual stuff," Kent said, taking another sip from his water bottle.

"Usual stuff? They say this shit a lot?" Payton asked.

"Not really them so much as like everyone," Kent said, his tone seemingly unbothered. Or maybe he had already heard everything all his critics had to say.

"What are you talking about?" Jeff asked because this was the first time he had heard anything like that said about Kent.

Kent sighed and scratched at the label on his water bottle with his thumb. He did not like all the attention on him. “Just people wondering about how useful I'd be. Wondering if the team made a bad decision choosing a winger instead of another center like they planned. They think putting me on the roster after camp instead of me playing in Reno was a hasty decision after—”

“What?” Jeff was already fired up from the hit. Hearing this made him want to get in his car and drive all the way up to the NHL Network studios to give them a piece of his mind.

“It's fine,” Kent replied, like he didn’t understand where his teammates' frustrations were coming from. “I know everyone was expecting Zi… Jack to be here. I'm just trying to make the most of it you know?”

“Okay. First of all, those analysts don't know shit,” Hamilton said.

“Hammy,” Payton said with a sigh.

“No, seriously. Fuck those guys,” Castle added.

“You guys aren’t wrong. Because if those assholes really think you were our second choice, they really don't know hockey,” Payton said.

“They’re not the only ones saying it,” Kent said. He kept picking at his water bottle label. “It’s fine, though.”

Jeff was getting really tired of hearing Kent brush all that stuff off. He was the number 1 pick for goodness sake. “I’d be pissed if they were saying this about me.” More than pissed, actually. 

Kent shrugged again. "I mean, what can I do? They'll keep talking. I'll just keep playing."

"You cannot be this jaded as a rookie, Parson," Brouillard said.

"Not jaded," Kent said. "It's... you either keep hearing it, or you tune it out. Those are my two options. So, I tune it out."

"Well, hopefully, you aren't hearing that shit close to home," Payton said.

"Not anymore," Kent replied. He stood up to stretch. "Are you sure you guys don't want me to grab something to eat? I know you guys usually go out after the game to eat something else."

"Who the hell was saying shit like that to you?" Jeff said, completely ignoring Kent's offer to go and get food. He watched Kent walk around the couch and back to the kitchen. He opened up the fridge and grabbed another bottle of water and took a long sip. "Parson."

Kent looked at his teammates. He looked at Brouillard and then at Castle, before dropping his gaze to drink his water. "No one," he said. "It's not like they were actually saying it to me, you know? They were just saying things and I happened to hear."

"Who?" Jeff said. "Was it our teammates?"

"They were just stating facts. Everyone was expecting GMMG to pick Jack."

"But we didn't," Payton said.

"Only because you couldn't."

"Why would our team need another center?" Jeff asked, offended. He was a center. He had spent two years in the league to establish himself as the Aces’ first-line center. Their team had enough centers. 

They needed wingers.

Kent was a winger.

"Because Jack is too good of a center to let go to another team," Kent said. "He's just—" He was interrupted when loud beep went off. "Laundry. Be right back." He put the bottle of water down then disappeared down a hallway.

When Jeff heard a door open and shut, he turned to look at his teammates. "Who the hell said that shit to him?" he hissed under his breath.

"Jeff, calm down."

"Peej, you know that's the last fucking thing you should say to me," Jeff said. "Especially when someone on our team is saying this shit to him. I’m gonna make him tell me who. And then I'm gonna—"

"We've all said it!" Payton said louder than he expected to. He sighed and dragged his hand down his face, taking the moment to calm down. "We've all said it,” he repeated in a softer volume. "Maybe not to him. But we've all thought it. We all thought we were getting Zimmermann. Because Zimmermann would've been a great pick up."

"Not all of us.” Jeff had never said anything like that about Kent.

"Yes, Jeff. All of us. Even you."

Jeff glared at his brother. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Everyone had their doubts about Parson," Payton said. "We all talked about it. You might not have said anything about Zimmermann, but you sure as hell said things about Kent."

"I... I didn't."

"You thought he was too small to play. That he'd bounce back and forth between here and Reno. You said you'd spend most of your time defending him on the ice because he was gonna get knocked around all the time."

"I didn’t—"

"This isn't supposed to make you feel bad, Jeff," Castle said. "We haven't exactly treated him like a regular rookie."

"Hell, look at the way we've treated Scoob and he's only been here for a week," Hamilton added.

"And Parson's been with us since the beginning of the summer," Brouillard said. 

"We haven’t even really hung out with him yet," Dahlberg said.

"We're gonna change that, right?" Jeff asked. 

The boys seemed ready to answer, but they all froze when they heard the sound of a door opening.

Kent reappeared holding a big pile of folded laundry in his arms. "Oh," he said, surprised. "You guys are still here." He adjusted his hold on his clothes. "Well, if you're here to just check on me, mission accomplished. I'm okay."

And, maybe, it was a little better than saying that he was fine.

Jeff looked at his brother who gave him a nod. "Would it be chill if we hung out and ordered pizza?"

"Oh," Kent said. He looked at the rest of the guys. "Yeah. Sure." He walked over to one of the kitchen counters and grabbed his wallet. "Here," he said, putting it on the corner. "Just use whatever card. I'm gonna go put these away." He disappeared up the stairs, leaving his teammates alone.

"You're not actually gonna use his money, are you?" Castle asked.

"Of course not," Jeff said. "You guys don't have to stay, though. I know you guys were gonna hit the bar."

"We can go buy beers and bring them back here," Hamilton said.

"Have to go now before stores close," Dahlberg added.

"I'll drive," Castle said. "Text me your requests.”

“What are you a radio DJ?” Payton chirped.

“Fuck off. You get zero beers. Everyone else, lemme know what you want.”

"Sounds good," Jeff said. He pulled out his phone to look up pizza places close to Kent's house. "I'm just gonna order the usual pizza spread." He found a place and tapped on the menu. "Anyone know what kind of pizza Parson likes?"

"Why would we know that?" Hamilton asked.

"Because Parson knew Garrett's daughter's favorite princesses,” Payton started. “And he knows that Mercys’ son is allergic to coconut. And that Dahlberg won't eat green Skittles. And he knows how everyone on the team takes their coffee."

“Peej, we get it. Parson has a freaky memory.”

“Well, can any of you fuckers tell me his favorite color?”

“Can you?” Jeff countered. Because he couldn’t. But somehow Kent had given him a hat for his birthday that had quickly become his favorite. All that after only knowing him for two weeks.

“No, I can’t.”

“Then why the hell are you chewing our heads off for not knowing things about Parson?”

“Because it means we’re not fucking paying attention to him,” Payton said. “There’s a reason we’re here to apologize for not doing that during a fucking game.”

“Yeah, well that ends now,” Jeff said.

The guys stopped to look in the direction of the stairs when they heard Kent coming down. He had changed from his basketball shorts into jeans and he was wearing a hat.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Brouillard asked.

“I’m gonna go pick up drinks. If you guys are gonna hang out, I don’t have anything besides what I mentioned earlier. But I can’t pick up beer.”

“Go back upstairs and change,” Hamilton said. “Castle and Dahlzy are gonna go pick up some stuff.”

“Oh,” Kent said. He went to grab his wallet off the counter. He pulled out some cash. “Not sure what you’re gonna get, but this should be enough.”

“Put that away,” Jeff said.

“But. I’m hosting.” He held the cash out to Castle.

“We invited ourselves over,” Payton said. “Go change. We’re gonna order the pizza. You want anything special?”

Kent shook his head. “I’ll just have whatever everyone else is having,” he said. He set his wallet and the cash down on the island, just in case someone was going to grab it. “I’ll be back.” He headed back toward the stairs. “Don’t forget the cash!” he said before he disappeared.

"He's always like that, isn't he?" Jeff asked.

"I have a tab with him," Dahlberg said.

"Me too, actually. And Merzy,” Castle added. "But I don't think Parson’s keeping count."

"Fuck," Jeff said. He grabbed the cash and stuffed it back into Kent's wallet. "You're gonna pay him back."

“We know," Dahlberg said.

Castle reached over and patted Dahlberg's arm. "We need to go before the stores close. Get me meat-lovers."

Jeff rolled his eyes. "No shit," he said before the guys left the house. He dialed the pizza place and placed his order before Kent came back down again.

Kent was back to wearing his basketball shorts again. He grabbed his water and took another long sip before putting his leftover food in the fridge. "So. I have movies and my Xbox and my Wii. You guys can just hook up whatever you want."

"Is that usually what you do after games?" Brouillard asked.

Kent shook his head. He looked over at Jeff and blushed before dropping his head. "I usually watch highlights of other games. If I think I'll be up for a while I might watch an actual game. But I know it makes me look like all I do is eat, sleep, and breathe hockey."

Jeff winced, thinking back to all the times he'd chirped Kent about not having a life outside of hockey. Then again, what could Kent do in Las Vegas? He couldn't go out and drink with the guys. He couldn't go gamble. If he wanted to go see a show, he'd have to go alone. "Well, that's probably why you can pick apart plays better than anyone else on the team."

"It's mostly luck," Kent said. He walked to the couch and shut the binder he hadn't realized he left open. He slid it under the coffee table.

"Definitely not," Payton said. "That's hard work, right there."

Jeff watched Kent's cheeks turn a darker shade of pink. He was embarrassed. Kent really, really did not like it when attention was put on him. He walked behind the couch and put a hand on Kent's shoulder. He gave it a squeeze. "If the boys put in even half the effort you do on the ice, we're gonna kick a lot of ass this year."

Kent let out a short laugh. "Just trying to keep up with you guys," he said. "Still trying to adjust to the game. So much faster than in the Q."

"You really think you aren't keeping up with us?" Jeff asked, pulling his hand away. He hopped over the back and sat down next to Kent.

"It's a fact," Kent said. He brought a hand up to rub his eye. He winced when he realized it was his bruised eye and immediately dropped his hand. "I'm always like a bad play or two from getting sent to Reno."

"That's definitely not true," Payton said.

Kent shrugged, not wanting to argue. He reached for the remote and changed the channel from hockey to a random movie already playing. "Maybe we can play some Smash?" he asked, turning on the Wii.

"We're revisiting this conversation later," Payton said. "But, yes. I'm going to kick all your asses." He walked to the TV and grabbed the four controllers to hand them out.

"He just likes eating people when he's Kirby."

"Fuck you, giraffe," Payton said. "Stop giving away my secrets."

"You know one move!"

"Giraffe?" Kent asked, taking one of the controllers.

"It's because I'm tall," Jeff said the same time Payton said, "It's because of his first and middle name."

"You realize we're going to use that forever now, right?" Hamilton said, taking the last controller.

"Don't you dare," Jeff said.

Kent leaned over as he selected the Ice Climbers. "I'll just call you Jeff."

Jeff reached up and ruffled Kent's hair. "Thanks, man," he replied. He held onto the controller as he chose his character with a smirk on his face.

"Fuck you, giraffe," Payton yelled. "Change your character, right now."

"Or what?"

"Or I'm telling mom," Payton said.

That made Kent laugh a genuine sounding laugh and all Jeff wanted to do was keep hearing it.


	2. Chapter 2

Jeff woke up the next morning to what sounded like someone typing on a keyboard. He groaned as he reached over for his phone on the coffee table to look at the time.

6:14 AM

"Fuck," he said sitting up to see the mess of pizza boxes, paper plates, and empty beer bottles all over the living room. He looked into the kitchen and saw Kent standing at the island, typing furiously on his laptop. "Parson?"

Kent looked over with wide eyes. "Hey," he said softly. "Sorry. I was trying to be quiet so I didn't wake you."

"What are you doing? It's ass o'clock in the morning."

"I was gonna try and clean up before I had to head to the arena," Kent said, keeping his volume low.

"Had to? It's optional skate today," he said.

"I know," Kent said. "But if I have the option to skate, I'm gonna take it."

"Still doesn't explain why you're awake five hours before we have to be at practice. We didn't make that much of a mess. And we would've cleaned it up ourselves."

"You don't have to do that," Kent said. "You can go back to sleep. I'm really sorry for waking you."

“What are you typing?”

“Looking up the bus schedule."

"Why?"

"Because I have to be at the arena early and my car is blocked."

Jeff remembered were two, maybe three cars parked behind Kent's from last night. "Then you wake us up, man."

Kent shook his head. "That's rude," he said softly. "It's okay. I have the schedule. If I leave in fifteen minutes I can make it to the arena in time."

"What time?"

"Eight."

"That's way too fucking early to be there."

"I just... I have to."

"Why?"

"Just. You know. Early workout."

"You're a shitty liar." Jeff stood up and stretched with a groan. Thank goodness today was just a maintenance day. He wasn't sure he would've been able to practice with how late he stayed up, and how much beer he drank, and falling asleep on the couch instead of in one of Kent's guest rooms. "I'll take you."

"What? No. You don't have to do that."

"I'm already up," Jeff said. "Might as well go work out. Let me get cleaned up, then we can go."

"Your brother's car is blocking yours."

"Good. He can come too,” Jeff said. Because if he was going to be up to doing a workout at six in the morning, he was going to make his brother join him. “Let me go wake his ass up."

"Jeff, you really don't have to do that."

"Too late.”

“Jeff.”

“What do you think you’re gonna do, take all your gear on the bus?" He waited for Kent to respond, but he didn't say anything. "I'll get Payt.”

"He's in one of the rooms upstairs," Kent said, resigned. Another argument he wasn't going to try and win. "You should've gotten me before you fell asleep. You could've slept in my bed. I would've taken the couch."

"Next time," Jeff said. Honestly, it wasn't that big of a deal. He made his way upstairs, finding his brother in the third room he checked. He grabbed his brother's ankle and shook it. "Peej, wake up." He stepped back when his brother's leg kicked out at him so he didn't get nailed in the chest. "Peej."

"No," Payton said. "It's too early. Wake me up in an hour."

"Payt."

"Two hours."

"You don't wake up I'm taking your car to Utah."

"The fuck you will," Payton said. He yawned and stretched out. He reached for his phone to look at the time before putting it back on the nightstand. He wanted to pretend he didn’t just see the time he saw. ”Why are we up this early?"

"Gotta take Parson to the arena."

"The fuck why?"

"He won't tell me."

"So, are we interrogating him?"

“What?” Jeff asked in a high pitched, offended tone. “No. We're taking him wherever he needs to go.

“If he wants to go work out at ass o’clock in the morning, he can drive.”

“Then we're taking your car since you're blocking both of ours.”

“Don't touch my shit.”

“So you coming?”

Finally, Payton’s eyes popped open to glare at his brother. “Yeah,” he said. “Just gimme a minute you ass.”

“Hurry up. Before he tries and takes the bus.”

“What?”

“Five minutes or I'm touching your shit,” Jeff said. He reached down and slapped his brother in the balls and smirked when he yelled and curled up. He left the room before he could hear Payton cursing him out.

He found Kent downstairs, putting on his shoes in the foyer. He had his duffel bag at his feet with his huge binder on top.

“Is Payton coming?” Kent asked, looking up.

It was the first time he’d seen Kent's face since he woke up. The bruise had darkened and crept up to around his eye like he knew it would. It looked bad against Kent’s pale skin. And somehow his scabbed lip looked even worse than when it was still open. “Fuck,” he said softly.

“What’s up?” Kent asked.

Jeff shook his head, not wanting to say what he’d been thinking out loud. “Nothing. Just, it’s early.”

“You don’t have to come, Jeff. It’s cool. I can still make the bus.”

“Number one draft pick, Kent Parson, is not taking the bus,” Jeff said. “Especially wearing an Aces hoodie. Come on, man.” He would get mobbed as soon as he stepped onto it.

“So, I should change my hoodie?”

Jeff rolled his eyes. “No. You’re not taking the bus. We’re just waiting for Peej to get his ass downstairs.”

“Okay,” Kent said. “Hey, since it’s early, should we go get breakfast for the guys still here? For when they wake up?”

“No.”

“But it’s rude if—“

Jeff held a hand up to interrupt him without saying anything. Once he was sure Kent wasn’t going to say anything else, he spoke up. “You’re our rookie, Parson. We should be looking out for you, not the other way around.”

“But you’re my teammates,” Kent said. 

"Yeah. And we're yours. So, don't worry about breakfast. Especially when the guys here already have a tab going with you."

“That…” Kent blushed. “They don’t have to pay me back.”

“Yeah, they do,” Payton said, fixing his hat as he came down the stairs. “And I’m going to make up some math so that there’s interest.”

"You really don't have to do any of that."

"And you didn't have to let us crash here last night."

"You guys were drinking. It was safer that way," Kent said. He picked up his binder and held it in his arm before picking up his bag. He quickly put everything back down. "If... if you guys are really taking me to the arena, can you give me ten minutes to clean up a bit?"

"No," the Troy brothers said at the same time. 

"I'm gonna send a text to the boys and make them clean this place up," Payton said. 

"I have time. I can do a lot in ten minutes."

"No," Jeff said. "We're getting you to the arena. And we're gonna buy you breakfast."

"I have stuff to eat in my bag."

"Bars are not enough if you're gonna skate today," Jeff said. He bent down and grabbed Kent's bag and binder. Damn, that thing was heavier than he expected. "Come on. Let's go."

"Okay," Kent said, reaching out to try and grab his binder, but stopped when Jeff glared at him.

Jeff pulled out his phone and texted the guys that were still inside as they stepped out and walked to Payton's car. He scrolled through his texts and saw that he had received one from Garrett at six in the morning.

**_Hey, let me no how last night went whenever u wake up._ **

**_Hey. Crashed at Parson's last night with a few of the guys. He's good even if his face looks really bad._ **

**_What r u doing up this early?_ **

**_What are you doing up this early?_ **

**_I asked u first._ **

**_Me and PJ are taking Parson to the arena._ **

**_Y?_ **

**_He said he wants to work out._ **

**_It's 2 early 2 b awake._ **

**_But you are._ **

**_I have 3 kids under 6. So, ur just gonna be at the arena until practice?_ **

**_I want to know what's going on._ **

**_U think something's going on?_ **

**_His binder he brings everywhere weighs 80 pounds._ **

**_Damn. Ok. I'm gonna meet u guys._ **

**_Why?_ **

**_Because if something's going on, I want 2 no._ **

**_Okay. We'll see you there._ **

"Everything good?" Payton asked when Jeff slid his phone back into his pocket.

"Just waiting for you to pop the trunk."

Payton held up his keys and pushed a button. The trunk popped open and Jeff put Kent's duffel and binder down.

"Wait. I need that," Kent said, grabbing the binder.

Jeff stared at Kent as he shut the trunk. "Okay. Where are we going to eat?"

"Um. Wherever you want? I usually eat after my... workout," Kent said.

Jeff heard the hesitation, but he kept his expression neutral. If it wasn't a workout, then what was it? "Well, we can pick something up so you... we can eat it after. I'm thinking omelets."

"I'm thinking you two need to get your asses in the car," Payton said.

Jeff rolled his eyes knowing his brother was grumpy at having to be awake this early. He got into the passenger's seat and buckled in once Kent was seated behind him. "Omelets. Let's go to that breakfast place by the arena. I want some red velvet pancakes too."

"Good fucking call. It's been a minute since I've had their cookies and cream pancakes," Payton said as he started the car and pulled out of the driveway. "You texted the boys, right?"

"Yeah. Put a prank hit out on them if they don't clean up."

"Just in time for the roadie."

Jeff turned around when he heard the sound of pages turning. "Hey, isn't reading in the car bad for your eyes?"

"Probably?" Kent said, keeping his eyes on the page he was on. "But I didn't get a chance to go over this last night."

"And what exactly is this."

"Notes on the game. Notes from the other games. My schedule."

"There's like over 200 pages in there."

"I have scouting reports and notes on all the teams."

"Holy shit," Jeff said.

"I gotta do everything I can to give myself an edge, you know?" Kent said with a shrug.

Jeff reached up and flipped Kent's hat off of his head. "Do you not realize how good you are?”

"I'm okay," Kent said, grabbing his hat and putting it on backward. "But everyone's been in the league longer. And got like at least four inches and however many pounds on me. It's not enough to just be fast."

"You're more than just fast," Payton said.

"Trying to be," Kent said.

"Yeah, okay," Jeff said, turning back around. They were going to have to work on how Kent saw himself. That was for another day, though.

Fifteen minutes later, they arrived in the parking lot of the breakfast place. It was already a little busy. Jeff got out to grab a menu knowing that Kent would get mobbed by everyone if he stepped out of the car.

"I'll do the sausage and eggs with just the regular pancakes."

"You sure?" Jeff asked.

"Yeah. Don't want to eat too much before skating."

"We'll go grab something to eat after practice, then." Jeff took his brother's order and was ready to step out.

"Wait. I have cash,” Kent said, lifting his hips off the seat to reach for his wallet.

Jeff was out of the door before Kent could grab his wallet out of his pocket. He waited outside for their order and was back in the car fifteen minutes later. "Pancakes," he said with a smile.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing," Jeff said. He patted his brother's arm with the back of his hand. "Let's go. Parson said he has to be at the arena by 8."

They looked at the clock. They had almost forty-five minutes to get there and the arena was maybe fifteen minutes away.

"I really don't think anyone is gonna be there except maybe the equipment staff," Payton said as he headed to the arena.

"Someone will be there," Kent said. They made their way to the practice arena and Kent was out of the car first. He headed to the truck to grab his bag once the it was popped. He put it over his shoulder and shut it in time to see the brothers get out of the car. "You guys don't have to stay."

"We don't have anything better to do," Jeff said.

The three of them headed to the entrance of the arena. The Troys followed Kent as he walked through the weight room and to the lockers to put his things away. He jumped when he turned around and saw them behind him. "Hey?"

"So, lead us through your workout," Jeff said.

"No," Payton said. "I did not agree to a workout, man. I have pancakes."

"Why did you just say that like you have shin splints or something?"

"Shut up, giraffe."

"You shut up,"

"I have to stop by the trainer," Kent said, interrupting the brothers.

"What? Why?" they both asked, turning their attention from each other to him.

"Are you hurt?" Jeff asked.

"No, no," Kent said. "Just... I just gotta see them first."

"Is Linc even here this early?"

"He'll be here at eight."

Jeff stared at Kent wondering just how the rookie knew this. But, if what they learned last night was true, Kent just knew things about his team and teammates. "Okay. Trainer."

Kent grabbed his binder and headed to the training room. He hopped up on one of the massage tables and opened up the binder between his legs. He started reading while they waited.

Jeff and Payton sat on opposite sides of the room. Payton put his hat on his face and leaned back to probably try and get a few minutes of sleep. Jeff pulled out his phone to play a game.

At 7:45, Jeff and Kent looked up when someone made their way into the room.

"What the hell, guys? I thought you were working out," Garrett said, standing in the doorway looking at the three of them.

"Garrett?" Kent asked, looking up from his binder with wide eyes.

"Parson said he needed to see the trainer first. And no, he's not hurt," Payton said with his hat still on his face, before Garrett could ask.

"Jeez, Kent," Garrett said taking a few strides to stand in front of him. He gently tilted Kent's chin up with a finger under his chin. "I wanted to call when I finally saw the hit, but it was late and I thought you were gonna sleep early." He pulled his hand back after he had inspected Kent's face long enough. "Barber's gonna get his."

"We know," the Troys said.

Garrett looked down at the page Kent's binder was open to and spun it so he didn’t have to read upside-down. "Is that accurate?" he asked, pointing at a name on the sheet.

"I... maybe? I think. I didn't really watch too much last night. I'll have to update when I get home."

"Is what accurate?"

"Looking at Colorado's roster. Their top line's Corsi numbers," Garrett said.

"What?"

"We play them in five days," Kent replied. "They're a good team. I'm trying to see how their lines are. I want to see how their numbers compare to our top line.”

"And you're just calculating this," Payton asked, sitting up and letting his hat all from his face.

"Yeah," Kent said. "I like math. But I might be off without a calculator."

"Holy shit," Jeff said softly.

Jeff had no idea how he was still learning these things about Kent.

He liked math?

He could calculate players’ Corsi numbers without a calculator?

He actually knew what a Corsi number was?

"Before I forget," Garrett said, interrupting Jeff's thoughts. "Jojo and Mal made these for you." He reached into his duffel and pulled out homemade two cards covered in glitter. Mallory had written 'Get Well Soon' on hers. Jodie tried, but at three years old she didn't know her letters well, so she just added more glitter to make up for it. "They watched and saw you get hurt. They want to make sure you're okay. And for you to come over again."

"I don't really want them to see me like this," Kent said, gesturing to his face.

"Jojo already said she got some Hello Kitty bandaids that she was willing to use on your face."

Kent let out a laugh. "Maybe. If only to make them stop worrying."

"Just let me know. Norah is ready to spoil you. And Emmy misses you too."

"Maybe before we leave for our roadie."

“Just let me know when.” Garrett jumped up on the table next to Kent. "So, when is Linc getting here?"

Kent looked up at the clock on the wall. "Ten minutes.” He carefully looked at the cards so the glitter didn’t get everywhere. He then flipped to the back of his binder so he could put the cards into page protectors.

Jeff noticed that there were a few other drawings in the back. Maybe he already had a small collection of art from Garrett’s kids.

Ten minutes passed and Lincoln hadn't shown. Then another ten minutes passed. And another.

"Dude, where is he?" Jeff asked.

Kent shrugged. "He could be stuck in traffic. You know how Vegas drivers can be."

Jeff did know how Vegas drivers could be. But he didn't believe that. Lincoln lived ten minutes away. He took his phone out and texted their trainer asking where he was. It wasn't fair to make Kent wait like this.

Fifteen minutes later, Lincoln barged into the training room out of breath. "Did you run here?" Kent asked. He hopped off the table and went to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. "Here," he said, holding it out to their Head Trainer.

"Why are you here so early?" Lincoln asked taking the bottle from him.

"It's the day after a game," Kent said.

"We took care of it last night, Parson."

"I wasn't sure if that counted."

"If what counted?" Jeff asked.

Lincoln looked at the other people in the room. It was the first time since he arrived that he noticed them. "Why are you guys here?"

"We wanted to bring Kent to his morning workout," Payton said.

"Morning what?" Lincoln looked at Kent. "Is that what you told them?"

Kent blushed and dropped his head. "I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say."

Garrett watched their rookie and their trainer. He could tell that something else was going on and that he and the Troys weren't privy whatever it was. "You two," he said, pointing at the brothers. "Let's go. Give them some space."

"No, no," Jeff said. "What's going on?"

"It's none of our business, Jeff," Payton said. He grabbed his brother's arm to pull him out of the trainer’s room. "Let's go. If Kent wants to tell us then he will. Otherwise, it's not our problem."

Jeff yanked his arm out of his brother's hold. "But you're okay?" he said, looking straight at Kent.

"Yeah," he said, fixing his hat. "It's just a drug test."

Jeff's eyes went wide. "What? Why?"

Lincoln reached out and put a hand on Kent's arm. "You don't have to say anything."

"Why are you testing him?"

"Because the league tests its players. Come on, Jeff, you know this," Garrett said, trying to calm Jeff down. "Let's go. Let them do this."

"No," Jeff said. "Because they just made it sound like this happens after every game."

"It does," Kent said.

"What?" the three other players said.

"Kent, you really don't have to say anything else," Lincoln said.

Kent reached up to scratch the back of his head. ”I feel bad for lying to them," he said.

"Well don't," Lincoln said. "It's none of their business."

"Is that why you're always the first one here for practice?"

"I like to be early," Kent said with a shrug.

"Parson," Jeff said.

Kent sighed, slumping his shoulders. He could see that Jeff wasn't going to let it go. "It's not a big deal. I just get tested after every game."

"Why?" Jeff asked. "No one else on the team has to do this. Is it part of your contract or something?” He wanted to get back to Kent’s side, but he stopped himself. He was mad, but he didn’t want Kent thinking it was at him.

"It's more for peace of mind," Kent said.

"For whose?"

Kent bit his lip. It seemed like he was done talking. He dragged his hand down his face and winced as he pressed into his bruised cheek again. "I think people would just feel better knowing that I'm clean. You know, considering everything that happened before this."

That was enough to get Jeff fired up. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's kind of like... image rehab?" Kent looked at Lincoln for confirmation. Lincoln shrugged, but didn't say anything. "I think that's what Miss Bethany called it."

Jeff had heard enough. ”Where the hell is Bebe?" he said under his breath, pushing between his brother and Garrett to leave the room. He stomped his way to her office.

"Jeff, calm down," Payton said.

"Yeah. What are you gonna go do yell at Bebe?"

"No," Jeff said. Unless Bebe had something to do with it. ”I just want to know what the hell is going on."

"Okay. But, like we’ve been saying, it's none of our business," Payton said.

Jeff spun around quickly to glare at his brother. "How can you say that?” Maybe it wasn’t their business, but Jeff felt like he was in the middle of it now, even if he was the one who put himself there.

"Because you're just feeling guilty about not seeing the hit last night. And now you're over-correcting," Payton said. "You always fucking do this."

"Shut up," Jeff said. "Don't act like you don't want to know what's going on. He's getting drug tested. Like every other fucking day. Does that not seem weird to you?"

"It does, but what are we supposed to do?" Payton replied.

"Considering what a clusterfuck his draft was, it really doesn't seem that weird?" Garrett countered. The brothers looked at him. They needed him to explain his thinking. "Think about it. Think about who Kent was associated with before he got here. And look at what happened to Zimmermann.”

Zimmermann was in drug rehab.

Which meant everyone thought that Kent knew about it and probably participated in it.

The guilt built up in him when he realized that he had thought about the connection at one point. And it was before Kent even got to Vegas.

“That’s absolute bullshit. So, we're just judging people by who they're associated with now?" Jeff asked. "What the hell do people think of me if they're just associating me with my brother. Or my best friend."

"Well, you're not a fucking ray of sunshine, that's what," Payton said.

Jeff did not appreciate his brother’s tone. "Fuck you," he said. He turned around and continued his walk to Bethany's office. When he got there the door was open and the light was on. "We need to talk."

Bethany looked up at Jeff, surprised. "You're here early.” She leaned over to see Payton and Garrett walk in. “Was there a meeting that I missed the memo on?”

"Why is Kent getting drug tested after every game?” Jeff asked, getting straight to the point.

Bethany’s eyes went wide. She was surprised that anyone but Kent and a few higher-ups knew about it. ”I can't tell you that."

"Is management making him do this?" Jeff asked.

Bethany looked at the three of them and sighed. "Shut the door." Once Garrett shut the door behind him she stood up. "No, they are not. Kent... volunteered to do so."

Jeff frowned. ”Volunteered." The pause made it seem like Kent hadn’t volunteered for it at all.

"Management was worried about his image. Kent said he'd do anything to fix it."

"So he gets tested after every game."

"Among other things."

"Like what?"

"Just extra off ice training on how to handle interviews. Counseling. Management has him scheduled to visit schools all over the valley. Volunteering where he can. Anything to build his image in the community. They want to just keep him busy."

"So he doesn't have time to do drugs,” Jeff said as if it were the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard in his life. “Why are you letting this happen?"

"You think I agreed to this?" Bethany said, raising her voice. "I wanted him to be treated like a regular rookie. Look at him. He goes from meetings to interviews to practices to games. I’m pretty sure the only time he gets a full night's sleep is when you guys are on the road. They’re gonna wear him out before January. And for what?"

Jeff dragged his hand down his face. "I don't know."

"It's like they're punishing him for not being Zimmermann," Garrett said.

"Well, he's doing a great job of doing that to himself," Payton said.

"That stops today."

"And what are you going to do?" Bethany asked.

"I don't know," Jeff said. "But after this stupid drug test, that is gonna be his last one until the league makes him take one, we're gonna make him eat his pancakes. And then he's skipping practice today."

"That's definitely not your decision," Bethany said.

"That's the privilege of wearing an A. I get to negotiate.”

"Good luck trying to convince Kent not to skate," Bethany said.

Jeff knew he'd need it. "Well, I'm gonna try."

Bethany sat back down and let out a sigh to relax. It seemed like these three were on the same page as her in regards to Kent. "You better look out for him. That’s my rookie,” she said. She had probably claimed him after spending so much extra time with him.

“He’s all of our rookie,” Garrett countered.

“Then start acting like it.”

“Bebe, that’s not fair,” Payton said.

“No. You don’t get it,” she said with all the fury contained in her 5’2 frame. She stood up again. “As soon as we got the number one pick in the lottery, he was ours. Then he became my responsibility as soon as he got here. And I haven’t seen a thing from anyone on this team besides Garrett to show me that you guys give a shit about him. So, until you guys show me anything, he’s mine.”

Jeff wished that Kent was there to hear what Bethany had just said. Her words would have been enough to get rid of any doubt that Kent had on whether he was supposed to be their first pick. “He’s ours,” he said, adamant.

Now, he was.

Bethany gave Jeff a once over then nodded. She seemed to accept glad Jeff was finally going to start looking after their rookie. “I know I’m not supposed to encourage fighting, but I was pissed that no one stood up for him after that cheap shot. If the same bullshit that happened last night happens again, you will see a side of Bethany Bourne that will haunt your dreams for the rest of your lives.” She glared at them for a moment before smoothing the front of her top and sitting down again. Then she waved them off. She had to get back to finishing her work.

As much as he loved to see Bethany being so protective of Kent, Jeff hated that her anger and frustration was directed at him. He walked out of the room and shut the door behind him. He brought his hands up to his eyes and pressed his palms into them. "Fuck," he said softly. He dropped his hands and looked at his brother and Garrett. "We missed all of this? How?”

"Kent didn't exactly want us looking with all of these walls he put up," Garrett said. "I think the most relaxed I've seen him was when he was hanging out with the kids."

"But we saw it. We all saw how tired he's been,” Jeff said. The guys would joke about it all the time. They had no idea how Kent could be so tired most days. Now he knew it was because Kent’s days were twice as long as theirs were. “It's one month into the season and if he keeps this up he's not gonna make it to the end. He's been dealing with all this shit by himself.”

If Jeff had to deal with even half of what Kent was dealing with he wasn't sure if he'd still be in the NHL.

Payton patted Jeff on his arm. "Come on, let's go talk to coach. Then let's take Kent home."

"I'll talk to the coaches," Garrett said. “I’m scared you’ll try to tear their heads off."

Jeff was going to argue, but he stopped himself. Garrett was probably the best choice out of the three of them to make a case for Kent taking a day. That and he was the most level headed. ”You know me too well, Gare."

"Yeah, well. If I was a couple years younger and had three less kids than I do, I'm sure I'd be in a yelling mood."

Garrett took the lead and walked to the coaches' office. He also took the lead in talking to their head coach.

It went a lot better than Jeff expected it to. Probably because there was a hundred percent less yelling and swearing than there would've been if Jeff had done the talking. The coaches had seemed surprised Kent showed up after the hit. Even they thought he would've taken a rest day.

Jeff was glad that Garrett had suggested cutting back on all the extra things Kent needed to do for the team. Media, testing, and everything else.

That was why Garrett wore the second A. It was also why he was called the Team Dad.

He had made it his responsibility to keep Kent on the right track. But also keep him from burning out.

The coaches agreed.

They wanted to see Kent through the rest of the season too.

Jeff just wanted to make sure Kent didn't hate them or hockey by the end of it.

The three of them left the office and went to find Kent. They found him in the locker room tying up his shoelaces.

"Hey," Kent said. "I'm gonna go use the elliptical for a bit, then we can have breakfast."

The three of them looked at each other, not wanting to give away where they had just been and what they had just found out.

"Kent," Garrett started. "The girls were wondering if you could come over and play with them."

"I can drop by after practice? I have to go home and get my car."

"The coaches want you to take a day," Payton said.

"But, practice? I can't miss practice."

“It’s only one day," Jeff said. "After what you did last night to win the game, they said you, of all people, deserve it. They aren't gonna let you lace up."

"Oh," Kent said. He blinked a few times, trying to process that. "So, no elliptical?"

"No," the three of them said.

"You need a rest day before the roadie," Garrett said.

"Okay," Kent said after a long pause. "Well. Can you take me back home, then?" he asked, looking at Payton. "I'll go get my car and come right over."

"Or you three can just jump into my car," Garrett suggested.

"Sure," Payton and Jeff said at the same time.

"Okay," Kent agreed. He opened his locker and grabbed his bag and binder. He watched Jeff reach into his and grab their food. “Are you sure it’s okay that I’m skipping practice? I’m not in trouble, though? For last night.”

"Far from it," Garrett said. "You've done nothing to be in trouble for."

Jeff couldn't help but think that Garrett was talking about more than just last night. It was like he was absolving Kent from whatever guilt he had brought with him to Vegas.

"Yeah, man. This is just team bonding," Jeff added.

"With Garrett's kids," Kent said.

"They're part of the extended team, Kent,” Jeff replied.

Kent tensed and stared at Jeff for a second. ”Okay," he said. If there was any fight in him before then, there wasn't any now. "Can we stop by a bookstore first? I think I promised your daughters books the next time I saw them."

"Sure thing," Garrett said. "Come on." He walked out of the arena with the three of them following behind like little ducklings. He popped the back open for Kent to put his bag inside. Luckily, he had the foresight to take out all the car and booster seats before heading over.

"Shotgun," Payton said as they got to the car.

Jeff got in the car behind Garrett while Kent sat behind Payton with his binder in his lap. "None of that," he said, taking it from his lap and putting it in the spot between them.

“But—"

"No. Not right now. Maintenance day. When you get back home you can watch your game and take your notes, but when you're with us, it's pancakes and princesses. Your daughters like princesses, right, Gare?"

"Yes," Garrett and Kent said at the same time.

"Great," Jeff said. "So, our plan is pancakes and princesses."

"Good plan," Garrett said, starting his car and pulling out of his spot. "The nearest bookstore is a bit of a ways away. Is that okay?" he asked Kent when they stopped at a stop sign.

"Yeah, as long as Payton and Jeff are okay with it."

"Jeff doesn't know how to read," Payton said.

"Payton can go fuck himself," Jeff replied. He reached forward and flicked his brother’s ear.

"Children," Garrett said as Payton reached back to punch Jeff in the thigh. "Cut it out. I thought I left my kids at home."

"Sorry, dad," Jeff said.

Kent laughed then let out a yawn. "Oh man," he said, bringing his hand up to rub his eye. He looked at Jeff when he dropped his hand. "Don't let me fall asleep."

"Sure thing, man," Jeff said making sure Kent didn't hear that it was a lie. If Kent was going to fall asleep, he was going to let him.

"The bookstore's twenty minutes away, Kent. If you want to take a quick power nap, that's fine."

Kent shook his head and yawned again. "No, can't mess with my schedule."

"Of course not," Garrett said. He crept his car out onto the street, looked in the rearview mirror, then took a left.

Jeff reached over and patted Garrett's shoulder. He lived on that side of town and knew that the way to the nearest bookstore was to take a right. And it definitely not twenty minutes away as Garrett had said. He did his best to make eye contact with Garrett when he finally looked in the rearview mirror.

All Garrett did was glance to the right.

Jeff furrowed his brow, confused. That was until he looked over at Kent. His head had drooped forward, then jerked back up as he caught himself falling asleep.

Jeff understood.

They were taking the scenic route in hopes that Kent would fall asleep on them.

Not even ten minutes later, Kent's head had fallen forward. Jeff was sure his entire body would've folded in on itself if it weren't for the seatbelt.

Jeff reached over and gently pushed Kent up and back against the seat with one hand and held him there. He undid Kent's seatbelt with the other. He pulled Kent over to lean against him once he was free of the belt. He smiled as Kent shifted a bit before settling into his shoulder.

He waited for Kent to wake up, but he didn't.

"We're good," Jeff said softly when Garrett turned to look back at them after he stopped at a light. "Let's take him home."

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at zimmboniandbitty.


End file.
